Friday Night
by NuclearParadise
Summary: Ivan sits in his apartment bored out of his mind with too much time on his hands. How could he fix that? With some pizza of course!-(sort of) One sided RusCan
1. A Night Alone

Ivan sat in his living room, downing another tall bottle of vodka. The TV placed in front of him flashed like lightning in the dark. The news, how he hated the news. Why he was watching it, was beyond him. It always made him feel stressed. Had they caught him? Had he left a clue? Where did he leave that body again? A wave of relief flushed his body as he saw the words "Suspect still unknown" run across the screen. He let out a short laugh as a picture of some strange bald man came into view. "Witnesses say this was the man at the crime, If you see this man call 911 immediately." His amethyst gaze flicked over towards the the rifle laying against his wall, lightly painted in red. Today's murder was a success. The man was younger than him, blonde, and quite the annoying little rat. He screamed for a while, always taking his chance to insult Ivan with a quick communist joke. Ivan shook his head, still not understanding why it had to be a communist joke. Russia hasn't been communist in a good ten to twenty years.

Ivan threw the now empty vodka bottle against his apartment wall, enjoying the loud crash that followed. His floor was showered with glass, and a small amount of vodka, causing him to grumble in frustration. He would have to clean that later. The Russian shrugged his shoulders in indifference.

"What ever, it's not like I'm expecting company or anything." He leaned down to grab another bottle of vodka among the many bottles sitting by his recliner. Popping the lid, he tipped his head back and began to empty the fiery liquid down his throat and into his gut. This was yet another victorious night of getting hammered. He nonchalantly picked up the remote to his TV from the arm of his chair and inspected the numbers a moment. He punched in the numbers "271" and looked up at his TV as it flashed. He rolled his eyes, history will have to do. There was a special on the Cold War today, how ironic. He propped up his elbow and leaned his face in his palm, half paying attention to the program. A few minutes passed, his eyes dropped as he became increasingly fatigued by the monotone voice of the narrator. He felt his consciousness fade, the history program flicking onto a commercial.

About an hour later, Ivan was jolted awake by a knock at his door. "H-hello? Anyone home?" A soft voice just barely made it's way through the door. Ivan groaned as he felt a slight headache coming on. He pondered if he should stand up, arching his arms up in preparation. They'll probably leave if he doesn't answer the door, thinking no one's home. Ivan felt himself falling back asleep, his arms giving out and his posture relaxing again. He closed his sore eyes, in no mood for a visitor.

Again the voice broke his pleasant silence. "U-uh Pizza delivery... Hello?" Ivan snarled, what did this douche bag want from him? Couldn't he see that it was- Ivan glanced up at the clock, his face suddenly becoming puzzled. It was only 3:00 in the afternoon, his murder had happened only seven hours before now. What was he doing with his life? Homicide, that was one thing... He slowly pushed himself up off the chair, frowning as his warmth left him.

"H-hello?"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Ivan grumbled angrily. He rubbed his arms together, shivering in the cold of his apartment. He stopped by his door and unlocked it. The Russian swung it open, almost causing the man outside to jump in fear.

"What do you want!?" Ivan snarled, already losing patience after three seconds.

A blonde young man stood outside his door, wearing a red t-shirt and a navy blue ball cap. He looked scared shitless at the sight of Ivan, his lavender eyes stretched wide in fear. "I-I, you ordered a pizza." He held out the box in his arms hesitantly.

Ivan stared at the man with burning hot fury, he hadn't ordered a pizza! Why would he direct any attention onto himself?

"I didn't order a pizz-" He stopped mid sentence, a sudden idea coming to mind. The thought from earlier now fresh in his brain. What was he doing with his life? He had to find more to do...

"I have to go get my wallet, please step inside for a moment while I go find it." Ivan opened the door more, stepping to the side so the young blonde could walk inside.

The pizza boy stared at him, unsure. "O-ok..." He nodded his head nervously before continuing inside, the pizza box now held tight to his chest.

The room smelt of alcohol, that was the first thing Matthew noticed, he still felt a little uneasy about stepping into this man's home. He still had two more deliveries to make and he had no plans for getting fired.

The man closed the door behind himself, striding past Mattie with spring in his step. The room became too dark for Mattie's liking, spiking more fear in his chest. _O-oh no..._

"I'll be right back, please stay right here while I go fetch my wallet." The man's voice was lined with some sort of thick accent, he could only guess that it was Russian. Matthew watched as he walked deeper into the house, and out of sight, his eyes flicking over to the living room. _Vodka, yep definitely Russian._

He watched the program flashing on the TV half heartily, not really caring what it was. Taking this short time of boredom, Matthew looked all around the house, spotting many unnerving things. A shotgun, covered in what he hoped was animal blood, newspaper clippings decorating the walls, thick warm clothes sitting in the corner of the room, (obviously not the same size as his tall Russian customer.) Maybe this man had relatives? Matthew heard a door close, directing his gaze over to his far right. He could just make out the silhouette of the tall man, holding something in his hand. Was that a wallet, no.. it was too big to be a wallet. He squinted, finding it much easier to make out the man's face as the TV reflected a brighter image. His eyes stretched wide as he saw his face.

Ivan smiled widely, his teeth clutched together in a bone-crushing manner. Two in one day? Jackpot! He tightened his grip on the knife in his hand, he didn't really feel like killing this poor man, but he was at the wrong place at the wrong time. So sad too, the boy was kind of cute in his eyes. Alas, his blood lust was too strong, overflowing him with an adrenalin rush. Yes this one would be fun, he seemed quieter and less robust than his last kill. Maybe afterwords he could keep a lock of that beautiful blonde hair for himself? Yes that was a good idea, he was quite fond of that idea. The voices in his mind continued to urge him on, whispering compliments about the young man across from him. Ivan continued to advance on the boy, his excitement bubbling up in his chest. He stared at the man, his eyes piercing his soul, burning a hole right though him. His head tilted to the side as he saw the young blond squirm under his intense stare. That only fueled him more. The voices muttered sweet things about the boy, all sounding just right to say before he slit his throat.

"Oh my, what's the matter little one? You seem scared. Does big scary Ivan intimidate you~?" His voice was as smooth as silk, yet as cold as ice. He enjoyed when his voice did that.

Matthew stared in terror as the man stepped closer and closer to him, holding a gleaming kitchen knife in his hand. Was this the end? Was he going to die right here? Right now?_ Oh Maple, _where was his older brother when he needed him_?_

Unfortunately for him, his brother had suffered the same fate earlier that day.

"You are so pretty when you are afraid, has anyone ever told you that?" Ivan's bitter sweet voice echoed eerily throughout the whole room.

**Oh noes Canada! Does he die? Does he live? What am I doing with my life? These are some questions that may never be answered. Only Ivan would know... Review~**


	2. Voices Sweet and Rough

**Since some of you asked for it, I just had to continue this story!**

Chapter II~ Voices sweet and rough.

Matthew was now leaning against the front door, his face frozen in fear. He dropped the pizza box, not caring if he was fired for dying on the job. Why was this happening to him of all people!? Why at the hands of this "Ivan?" He would have never imagined in his whole life that he would die like this! _If I do survive this, I am so quitting this job!_

An idea suddenly struck him, maybe he could reason with this murderer? Though he still had his doubts, and that face didn't look like that of a kind forgiving person...

"W-why are you doing this? What did I ever do to you?" Mattie asked out loud, his voice portraying his absolute horror.

Ivan stopped walking, his smile disappearing to be replaced with a questioning frown. "What do you mean?" He looked puzzled, had his words really gotten under his skin?

Matthew silently thanked what ever god was watching over him at the moment. Yes he had bought some time, now he must use it wisely before his throat was slit open. "I-I well-" He thought for a moment, his eyes never leaving the knife in the other man's hand. "Why do you want to kill me?" His eyes flicked over towards the Russian's face, holding as much innocence he could muster.

Ivan tilted his head, still just barely hearing the boy over the voices. What was he yammering on about? He tried his best to hear him, but the voices just grew louder and louder until the point that they were screaming at him. "KILL HIM! WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?! REMEMBER THE PLAN, YOU CAN DO WHATEVER YOUR HEART DESIRES WITH THE BODY ONCE YOU HAVE KILLED HIM! JUST EASE THAT KNIFE INTO HIS CHEST, IT ISN'T REALLY THAT COMPLICATED! HE ASKED FOR IT!" Ivan threw the knife in the direction of his recliner, only to grab his pounding head. Why had such a simple process suddenly become so hard? The knife sent a loud crash piercing the air, causing a spike of pain in his head. He winced, closing his eyes tight in pain. Deep down, all he wanted was to hear this sweet boy's words, even if they were a plea for his life. Heck! A plea for his life would make this even more enjoyable! Two birds with one...knife. He would hear the blonde's beautiful voice, and his more sick and twisted needs would be fulfilled with such an innocent request. But the voices, they were too loud! He must hear that plea, that angelic voice!

"Just Shut Up For One Minute!" He shook his head, digging his fingernails into his scalp. Ivan saw the boy move his lips again, his face making his blood lust grow. His eyes started to twitch as his head ache became less and less bearable. The voices began to mock him, insulting him, picking on him, just as they had when he was younger. He fell to his knees, thrashing his head around in an effort to shake the voices away. "SToP! gO AwAY!" Ivan threw his head into the ground repeatedly, causing his head ache to deepen. Blood spattered on the floor as his smashing became more and more violent. "JUsT leAVE ME AlOnE!" He screamed in fury. Tears began to form in the corners of his eyes, he just wanted to hear that sweet voice beg!

He was shocked to say the least. What had he triggered? His face pulled into a frown, what wounds had he reopened? Matthew couldn't help but feel the slightest ting of guilt. Yes this man was trying to kill him moments earlier, but this? The poor guy must be nuttier than a squirrel. He watched Ivan break down in front of him, unsure of who he was actually talking to. Matthew cringed as he saw blood begin to form a small puddle on the wooden flooring. He didn't know what he should do, all of his senses were screaming for him to run away while he had the chance, but he didn't really want to abandon the poor guy. No, I have to escape while I still have the chance, he could be just doing this to distract me. Matthew turned to leave, quietly turning the door knob while he continued to stare at Ivan. The man made no move to stop Matthew, as he was lost in his own twisted world. His adrenalin pumping, Matthew shook the knob frantically, letting out small wines of distress, as his more quieter efforts hadn't worked. The door knob made clanking sounds as he struggled to escape, his fear building up. He didn't know how long Ivan would be emotionally paralyzed, but he could sense that his time was ticking away quickly. A loud crunch caused his mind to instantly go blank, and his heart skip a beat.

"N-n-no, no, NO! No no! Why!?" In Matthew's hand lay what was his only means of escape. Part of the doorknob came out, though it was still patually in tact, denying access from either side. Ivan had swung the door to hard when he answered it earlier! Matthew felt tears begin to flow down his face, there was no escape now. He fell down onto his backside, his head dipping down. Trapped with a psycho murderer. What a terrible way to go. He shrunk onto his side and continued to cry. This is the end, he was going to be killed once Ivan stopped whatever it was he was going on about. He sniffled, images of his family and friends flashing behind his eyes. Next to him, Ivan had stopped smashing his head, and was now staring at Matthew with deep saddened eyes.

A time of weakness, that's all he could chalk it up as. He should have just allowed this poor unfortunate soul leave, now he was trapped in the same room as him. Right now his hunger for blood had dispersed, but he couldn't count on it staying that way for long. It's like locking up a rabbit in a sleeping lion's cage, both waiting for the savage killing to begin.

Ivan slowly pushed himself up onto his feet, his mind still not completely clear. He knew what he should do, even though his conscious told him different. With one glance over towards Matthew crying, he felt a huge wave of anger. For years he has been killing, over time he had begun loose count on how many people's lives he took. Never had he felt this way while in the process of another kill. It hurt, burning his chest in such a way that it felt like he was stabbed in the heart. Had he? He looked down at his chest. Nope no knife, just bitter emotions. Ivan shook his head and shuffled into his kitchen, not looking back to see Matthew. His phone, he had to get to his phone...

Ivan stopped around the corner, taking a deep breath. Why he suddenly wanted to turn himself in was a mystery. He picked up the Iphone laying face-down on his counter and turned it on. Ignoring the five missed calls from his younger sister, Ivan dialed 911. His reign of terror was coming to a close, though he didn't feel all that better ending it. He felt a small surge of regret, what started all of this killing? What has he become? His sister, she had started this. He waited for the number to pick up, nervously rubbing his hand across his bloodied forehead.

"911 What's your emergency?" A woman's voice responded from the other line.

"T-there's a serial killer in my apartment." He tried his best to steady his voice and calm his thundering heart.

"Ok sir, please remain calm, have they gone away? What is your location?"

"Apartment 14b on Willow St." **(Sorry for really bad fake address)**

"Ok, where are they? Are you safe?" Ivan heard the woman tapping away at the keys on her keyboard, the answer to her question burning on the tip of his tongue. There is no turning back now.

"T-the killer... it's me." He could feel the need to kill suddenly crash into him like a wave. It was scaring him, Ivan was beginning to fear himself. _You are so weak._

**Sorry for another cliffhanger . It's just too much fun! Another chapter is coming soon, I promise! **


	3. Tick Tock

Ivan shook his head, closing his eyes. He breathed evenly, trying to calm down. Why wont his mind just choose a side?! Was he going to spare this man's life or slaughter him like the rest? Why was there even a question? He must be more insane than he originally thought!

Ivan threw his phone onto the floor, a strange feeling of anger welling up in his chest. Why had he called!? He just ruined his own chances at getting away! Curse his human side. It would rarely come out when he was killing, but he always found a way to overpower it. That young man... He's the one that made it difficult.

Ivan smiled wickedly, his thoughts collecting all at once. Yes he had to find a way to hide with the boy, then when they were safe he would have his chance. He didn't have to be caught, this was just a chance to challenge himself. Was he really as illusive as he thought?

Matthew struggled with his phone held to his ear, his heart pounding in fear. "Come on come on, please pick up!" The other end clicked and a loud enthusiastic voice answered.

"Ciao~ This is Feliciano and Romano's Pizzaria, can I get you something?" His perky Italian boss asked, most likely in the process of making another bowl of pasta for an order.

Mattie let out a long held breath, relieved to hear a friendly voice. "Feliciano! It's me Matthew, I need you to get ahold of my brother, he hasn't answered his phone."

The other end was silent for a few moments, a few soft giggles coming from the italian. "Come on Alfred, I don't have time for this, can't you call Ludwig? I have some orders to fill, and I'm still waiting on your brother... Matthew was it?"

He felt like throwing the phone and screaming. "No! Feli, It IS me! Matthew! Please hurry! I don't want to die!" He tried his best not to yell to loud an alert his captor, but he had to get it across to Feliciano. "P-please! just get Al for me!" His stomach plummeted when he heard the phone click off. That was it, he was done... His heart sank, and he could feel the air around him drop to a freezing temperature. This is it, the end, he never imagined that it would be like this. No one would find him, even if they did remember him. He felt like crying, but no tears came, he had cried out everything he could. Mattie stared down at his phone, flicking through all of the contacts. He watched them fly past, his brain not completely clear. Then an idea hit him. _911! That's it! If I call, maybe they can come here in time! If I'm lucky they may be able to get me out of this hell-hole! Why didn't I think of this before!?_

As fast as he could, Matthew dialed the number and held his phone up to his head, a shaky smile on his face. His eyes traveled over to the small blood-stain on the floor where Ivan had hit his head. That man was completely mad, he was in no right mind and he knew it. Suddenly hurting himself was not what any normal person would do when they had their goals somewhere else. Well, a sane person wouldn't try to kill an innocent pizza boy either...

"Hello, 911 what's your emergency?" A friendly man's voice answered. Their calm mood gave him a little reassurance.

Matthew opened his mouth to answer when he heard footsteps again, this time there was something different about them. They weren't slow or heavylike before, they were quickly paced. His eyes stretched wide in horror, he had to finish this call quick or else he would get caught.

"T-there's someone trying to kill me! I-I was just delivering pizza a-and-"

"Hello? Is anyone there?" The person on the other end sounded a bit confused. Mattie mentally swore for his quiet voice.

"P-please! Send help!" Matthew practically screamed as a huge lumbering shadow came into view. It was now or never, even if the police came he would most likely be dead or have fatal injuries.

"This line is for emergencies only, we don't take kindly to pranks!" The other end died off, and with it all hope for Matthew's survival. He closed his eyes and waited for his attacker to approach. His phone dropped to the floor and shut off, it was of no use anymore.

"Change of plans подсолнечник, you're coming with me on a little field trip." Ivan approached Matthew, a frightening frown on his face. His lips quivered, twitching into a slight smile. All Matthew could do was sit there, watching as Ivan knelt down in front of him. He would have struggled, but seeing as Ivan was definitely bigger and stronger than him, resistance would only end in a more painful death. The larger man's arms slinked around Matthew's body, almost as if he was trying to hug him, except a hug from Ivan would probably suffocate him to death. He let out a squeak as he felt Ivan pull him up effortlessly, holding him like a newly married bride. His eyes started to space out at the man's face, memorizing the last person he would ever see. He thought of saying something to prolong his doom, but his throat was closed up tight, keeping him from screaming out or even speaking. Ivan glanced back as he started to walk deeper into the house, he smiled wickedly and played with Matthew's loose piece of hair. He turned his attention back to the room ahead, letting out a deep, sickening chuckle. A chill went down the smaller blonde's spine, almost causing him to make a sound of discomfort.

Ivan ducked into the next room, turning over to the staircase behind the door. He made sure he had a good grip on his special cargo before taking one step down. Matthew snapped his head to look downwards, fear coming off of him in waves. "Sh, sh, It's ok little one, you're not falling." Ivan whispered in a chilling voice. He could feel the boy tense up when he said that, giving him a slight rush of amusement. This challenge was turning out to be quite fun. He hadn't had such fun in years! The police rushing over to his house while he hurried to do his work, it was the perfect horror story! Yes, something to get the old heart pounding. Ivan kept making his way down the stairs, coming to the bottom where they were engulfed in darkness. He leaned his shoulder on the wall and clicked on the switch, revealing the whole basement's image. Matthew froze up in his arms and began to shake violently. Ivan chuckled again, loving the absolute horror coming from his beloved new plaything.

All around them, on the walls, on the floor, were weapons used for his favorite torture subjects. Red splashed all across his walls and floor, collecting into small puddles under his feet. If he was to get Matthew "fixed up" and escape the scene in time, he would have to work fast. He felt a rush of excitement as he imagined the new headlines to come, images of his basement for the whole world to see. Yes, they would most certainly know about Ivan the infamous serial killer who has been haunting this city for years. But if he escaped and got on a plane back to the motherlands in time he would be free to continue his bloody profession.

Ivan took Mathew over to the chair sitting in the far left of his basement and gently set him down. As expected, the boy instantly started to move and struggle out of his grip. Well, maybe he could have cleaned up a bit, his bum would get wet... Oh well, red looks good on anyone, right? He used one hand to hold the younger man down by the chest, reaching with the other hand to get the rope sitting oh-so-innocently next to the chair. Ivan could hear and feel as the blonde started to hyperventilate, panic washing over him. He rolled his eyes and sighed. Why they always did that, he didn't know. It was much more annoying than any other sound they could make. He brought the rope over and struggled with tying it to the boy's arms and waist for a few more minutes. _Tick, tock, tick, tock! I don't have much time!_

"Come on you miserable wench! Just behave and I'll make this quick!" Matthew continued to struggle, even after the ropes were tightened and escape was impossible. Ivan regretted it, but he had to make him shut up. He drew back his hand and swiftly struck the Canadian in the face with bone-crushing strength. His action was followed by a short silent scream, then silence. "Good, now behave, I don't want to have to do that again." Ivan narrowed his eyes at Matthew before turning back around. All around him a playground of toys lay in wait for him to play. He smiled darkly. Maybe a bludgeon would do him good today. He slowly walked over towards the rack of hammers, maces, and pipes hanging off the wall a few feet away. His finger ran over each and every one of them, feeling their cold, heavy, metal with sick and twisted interest. Behind him Matthew made a whimpering sound, causing him to glance back with a venomous glare. The blonde stopped all at once, a tear dripping down his face. Ivan nodded and returned to his weapons. _Maybe Mr. Pipe would like to have his shining moment? _He glanced back over to Mattie and shook his head with a light frown. _No, I want to preserve that beautiful skin of his. _Ivan moved over to the stranger, less used weapons. A sickle, a spear, a tazer... So much to choose from... He glanced over his shoulder at the rack next to his victim. Blades shone in the dim light, reflecting silvers and reds. _Maybe a simple knife will- _"Ow..." His head throbbed, as he thought of ways to preserve Matthew but still have his fun. "M-maybe... or I could use the one my sister gave me..." He spoke out loud without meaning to, his mind too stuffy to think. "She did say I should use it on someone I love." He smiled, still not understanding what his sister _really_ meant by that. Ivan walked over to the rack of knives by Matthew, who was now shaking like a little dog who had just been thrown into ice cold water. He eyed each blade carefully before almost jumping with excitement. "Ah! There you are!" He picked the longest knife, decorated with a scratched heart in perfectly polished metal. "Oh sis, you are too kind~" Ivan ran his finger over the smooth surface, stopping at the heart. "And now, my sweet friend, you get to feel what it's like when a Braginsky falls in love with one of his victims."

Matthew closed his eyes and begged to what ever god was watching over him for a second chance. Too bad the only god that even dared lay eyes on Ivan's basement was the devil himself.

**Yes, I know it's a little short and extremely late, but I assure you that I have not dropped this fic. I will hopefully be updating it sooner next time. :) See you next chapter!**


	4. Storming the Castle

**Yay a sooner update :D**

There was a faint sound upstairs, alerting Matthew, but seemingly unfazing Ivan. He had too much work to do, too little time. There was no time for sweet nothings, he had to chop up the body, save a lock of hair for himself, and escape. Though with his current state of mind, time was altered, making him feel all too confident.

"I have plenty of time, they won't know what hit them~" Ivan ran his finger over the blade one more time, his eyes glimmering with excitement and some other emotion. "This might hurt little one, but not as much as it's going to hurt me to see such a beautiful subject wasted..." A frown made it's way onto his face as he peered into the younger man's terrified eyes. It soon vanished with his flip-floppy mood. "Well, it was nice knowing you for such a short time, it's a shame too... I never did get to know your name..." He leaned in, causing Matthew to flinch and turn his head away from the blade pointed at his face. Ivan let out few giggles. "YA lyublyu tebya." Ivan made a small slice across Matthew's face, watching hungrily as his red life-blood dripped ever-so-slowly down his face. A short gasp escaped the blonde's lips, ending in a little whine. The Russian ignored this, for louder and more energizing screams were to come.

Another smash, another muffled yell. This time however, the sirens ate into Ivan's mind, though they were soon drowned out by the blood pounding in his ears. "Still plenty of time... Stop stalling yourself, just get this done!" Again his humanity was getting in the way, screaming at him to stop. He truly did love this young man just at the sight of his beautiful curly golden locks and perfect creamy skin. But if he could just hold back the urge to stop, he could have anything he wanted on this boy. Maybe a patch of his skin in a heart shape? A lock of that sun-kissed hair? But his eyes, they were just as amazing as well! Would he go as far as to take one? No, eyes never kept their shine and sparkle. They always dulled and faded to a less desirable shade. No good! Some hair and skin would have to do. His eyes focused again, noticing how his hands were doing the same thing he had done to his past thirteen victims. He was gliding it like a paintbrush over Matthew's wrists, cutting the veins so that he wouldn't stay awake for the full thing, meaning less screams, less attention drawn towards him.

A sinking feeling of sadness weighed down in his gut. What had happened? Everything was silent for him other than a soft annoying ring. His eyes glided up to the younger male's face. Matthew's eyes were wide and his mouth wide open as if he were screaming. Such a pity, he couldn't hear any of this... Ivan reached the knife up and aimed it at his thrashing neck. He would have to make him quiet now, end it so that the police would not have to perform any "unnecessary" acts. His fingers shook wildly as he pressed it gently onto Matthew's neck. Blood began to bead under it, but not too much as to kill him. His eyes burned and his mouth twitched between a smile and a frown. "W-what am I doing? J-just do it, he was asking for it, right? Right? J-just slit his throat and end it, not that hard... I know." He closed his eyes, trying so hard to bottle up that feeling of remorse. "Stop, you have to do this." He applied more pressure on the knife, the blood under it beginning to flow heavier. Matthew thrashed more, almost causing Ivan to slice him up like a mince pie. "S-stop! You're making this harder on me- and yourself!" A wet streak ran down his cheek, he couldn't think about it at the moment, but he chalked it up as a harmless drop of sweat. He pressed even harder, drawing a large amount of blood.

There was a sudden presence behind him, a hostile air flowing into the room. Instantly the clock spinning in his head stopped and broke completely. Time's up. Matthew stopped thrashing, but was now staring straight at Ivan, or that's what he thought. His violet eyes seemed to be out of focus of his head. Ivan took a deep, shaky, breath, time now moving slower than it has ever before. There were several men wearing black, armed and ready for a violent attack standing at the base of his stairs. He felt nothing. In the front though, Ivan could sense something strange about the man standing there. He had blood-red eyes, white hair and pale skin, an albino. Such a rare occurrence. The man gave off a more intense feeling of hatred, anger, and something different that Ivan couldn't recognize. His hearing was still not showing any signs of coming back. The albino's eyes narrowed and his lips moved to form words.

Too bad Ivan couldn't read lips.

"Drop the weapon Ivan Braginsky! You are under arrest for the deaths of thirteen innocent lives!" The albino roared angrily, his eyes blazing with fury.

Ivan tilted his head to the side, cocking a confused brow. What nonsense was this man going on about? Maybe something to do with his newest victim perhaps? He took the knife away from Matthew's bleeding body and wiped it on his pant leg passively. A little bit of sound made it's way into his mind.

"...warning...you...shoot...drop...weapon...now...Step...chair..." It was like tuning an old radio to find the perfect station. Ivan smiled faintly.

"You mean... _this _thing?" Ivan lifted the knife in front of his face, the image of himself reflecting on it's silvery surface. "Oh, but it's a heirloom of the Braginsky family, it would be a disgrace to drop it on the filthy ground. How about... I use it instead?" He smiled wider, a playful look on his face. He could feel his ears regain sound as he spoke, his body becoming deathly calm.

"I have no time for games! One more move and I'll blow your head right off!" The men behind the albino all readied themselves, tensing up like a herd of gazelles being stalked by a lion.

Ivan, in his childish nature put a finger on his lower lip with an innocent face. "Do you wish to play nice? Or would you like to fight... dirty?" He bared his teeth as he ended the final word, his accent thick and chilled. The Russian took one small step forward, as if teasing a young child.

The albino's nose scrunched up. He raised his hand up from his waist, a pistol held tightly in his grip.

He wasn't scared.

He wasn't upset.

He wasn't mad.

He was strangely at peace.

All of his surroundings lit up with a fantastic light-show of bright whites and shadows splaying out on the wall. A smile still apparent on his face, he fell to the ground with a sickening thud. He hadn't even heard the explosion go off before he could even register it. A hole dug into his neck, passing through what he hoped was his spine or artery. Darkness accompanied by silence followed as his eyes closed.

* * *

Gilbert watched as the large man crumpled down onto the ground, he hadn't hit his head as he had wanted so badly. But by hitting the neck, hopefully the evil man would bleed to death, slowly and painfully for all of the lives he took over the course of a year. He glanced up as his men ran forward, separating into three groups. One group running towards the man now bleeding heavily on the already stained floor, and another rushing over to Matthew, who's head was now slumped to the side. The last group moved around the room searching for anything potentially dangerous. Gilbert walked over to the group of men crowding around his sweet Matthew.

"Birdie..." He whispered in concern as he saw the red stains decorating the blonde's body. His eyes widened at the sight of the deep cut in his throat. He stood right in front of the Canadian, tears beginning to form in his eyes. "M-mattie?..." He looked over to the other officers with intense pleading eyes. "Is he...?"

"He's still breathing Sir, The paramedics are just outside, I'll go get them." A brunette out of the group reported, pushing his way through the others.

"Be quick! We don't know how long he has!" Gilbert felt a fresh wave of anger well up inside of him. _That bastard, he did this. He'd better be dead!_ The albino rubbed his knuckles over his friend's cheek, his red eyes glimmering. "I should have taken better care of you..." Matthew's face was void of anything, his skin paling from the blood still flowing down his neck. Gilbert couldn't watch any longer, a shroud of guilt hanging on his shoulders. He couldn't help but think that it was his fault for not taking better care of his precious birdie.

He turned around after a moment, his piercing red eyes glancing over towards the body lying on the ground a few feet away. A scowl spread across his face and he strode over with his arms folded. Two officers moved over for him to fully view the serial killer. Just the sight of him caused him immediate disgust. He bent down so he was almost on his knees. He had to know for sure if the world had been rid of this "Ivan Braginsky." His fingers brushed over the artery in the Russian's neck, resting for a moment. Something moved under his touch, his eyes immediately narrowing in fury. _Damn the luck... _Ivan was still barely alive. He should have aimed for the head. _Maybe he'll die before they rush him to the hospital? _Gilbert moved his hand away and stood up straight. His face wiped of any emotion as he cleared his throat. "Pick the place clean boys, make sure no stones are left unturned, we want to get as much dirt on this guy as we can get." Everyone in the room nodded, scattering around to search the basement and the upstairs.

He turned to go back up the stairs as well, wanting to get out of this fowl smelling place. A few of the other officers were carrying on conversation as he passed by them to the now broken door. He passively glanced their way before returning his gaze on the empty door-frame ahead. "How do you think someone like him gets a basement in an apartment? Isn't that a bit extreme to build?"

"Well, I'd imagine it takes a lot of cash, and a lot of ass-kissing." Another officer responded.

"Nah, don't you guys know that most of the apartment buildings down this way are abandoned? Not much money to be made on this side of town other than drug dealing." A third added, shaking his head as he opened a cupboard full of colorful cereal boxes. "I wouldn't be surprised if this guy's one of those crackheads." They all nodded in agreement, returning to their work. Gilbert felt a chill run up his spine at the thought of it. He blocked it out and focused on walking out into the fresh air. Now he knew who had killed poor Matthew's brother earlier that day.

_Man, nothing was going his way today, first his brother, and now almost him._ Maybe later when he was in the hospital he could make it up to him. The Prussian shifted off to the side as paramedics rushed by him with a bed being pushed ahead. _Please go for Mattie first_. He mentally waited a moment before continuing out into the outside air, his eyes having to adjust to the flashing reds and blues everywhere. He felt sick to his stomach just thinking about the terrible things that went on in there for so long, unchecked until now.

**Half way through, I realized that the setting was in an apartment and for as much as I know, apartments don't have basements. So let's just say that Ivan had some construction done to his place. No better way to feel at home than a lovely little deathtrap under your feet~**

**I don't really ship Prussia and Canada, but I guess I can let this one slide as long as they're not having sex yet :/**

**Translations: "YA lyublyu tebya." (Я люблю тебя.) = "I love you."  
**


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